Thursday, October 29, 2009

So much fun watching the squirrels in the backyard in the fall leaves. . .hiding their winter treasures: the black walnuts from the trees in the woods. . .

A week or so ago, the boys took buckets into the woods to gather loads of black walnuts (still in their little green cases). . . taking load after load and dumping them under the fort in the backyard. . .on top of the old [aquamarine. . .or aka-marine] plastic swimming pool. Laughing. Industrious. Having a wonderful little boy time.Last weekend, as Sam and I made our Sunday morning coffee, we watched as Mr. Squirrel discovered this bountiful buffet of squirrely, nutty goodness. He sat in the middle, chewing off the green cases, one by one. . .and then scurried off to find the perfect spot in the yard to hide them away.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

He loves letters. . .numbers. . . And right now delights in putting those magnetic letters [the ones I bought so many years ago for my Kindergarten classroom. . .love to see them used again] all over the fridge in a blob. . .

Not exactly sure what has brought this so fresh to his little boy memory. . .in a time when I thought the present was a burning, consuming fire in his mind, the past just a lingering candle flickering. . . But his memories, I find are a little different. Reaching back further than I would imagine. . . Little bits of this; little bits of that.

And right now he is loving his memories of Zeli Beach House. . . Especially his room there. . . That had it's own little flat screen tv to watch [where he delightedly laid in bed, mornings, watching SpongeBob] and had Lightning McQueen sheets on his bed.

The place where we could go swim. . . and play in the sand. . .

I tell him that we will definitely back. . . but not until it's summer time again. . . and warm. . . after the baby is here.

A day not to worry that I am a million tasks behind before the baby arrives. . . and Christmas arrives. . . A day to just chat about silliness and Thomas the train. . . and sip my tea. . . and dream of that little bundle that is coming oh so quickly. . .

Friday, October 16, 2009

Over two weeks ago, Sam was involved in a six car smash on the Parkway on the way to Pitt to do some work. . . I was on the phone with him at the time. . . chatting about the day: laundry, dinner, the everyday. . . He's stopped in traffic. . . Waiting. . .

And I suddenly heard noise. . . like he had rolled his window down and the rush of air and traffic was overwhelming the phone and my ear. . .

And then he said, I was in a wreck, I'll have to call you back.

Are you OK?

Yes. I'll call you back.

And I waited an eternity. My belly agonizing with Braxton Hicks in my anxiety. Pacing the floor; willing the phone to ring. Tears. And a million thoughts. . . a million what-ifs. . . Bringing back August from three years ago when he was crashed into on the back roads, just moments from our home. . .totalling our purple Sunfire. But, the Parkway. . . that had to be so much worse.

Six cars.

A dump truck speeding along 35 to 40 miles an hour. . .never stopping. . .who smashed into the back of a Verizon van. . .who swerved to miss the woman in front of him, clipping her bumper instead (and taking so much momentum out of the accident, I believe). . .she spun into the guardrail and the car in front of her. . .the older couple, and their prize winning Dachshund. . .they crashed into the back of Sam. . .who crashed into the SUV in front of him. . .

And our blue car. . .only three years old. . . broken. . .

Over $6000 worth of damage. And in the garage for a little over two weeks. And waiting to be picked up today.

And I am reminded that although it was our new car. . . one of our best we've had. . . it's still just a car. Just a thing. And how much worse it could have been. And how truly blessed we really are.

Broken in other respects. That way you glance around in traffic now. Looking for bigger trucks. And shuddering when they fly past with little regard to the traffic around them. Gone is that complacent feeling of just jumping in the car and driving. That tomorrow is always there, coming as quietly as today. That or not. . . what if . . . lingers. Pacing the floors in the back of my mind, cagedly uneasy. Touching each moment, each thought.

A not so subtle reminder that today, each moment, is so very important. To be cherished. To be grabbed, and lived.

[Stymied. . .] Well, actually, the Tooth Fairy doesn't make money. If she did, she would be a counterfeiter and she would be in jail.

.

Why?

.

Because it's illegal to make money.

.

Why? Why can't you make money? Why can't you make dollars and coins.

.

And the logical person in me says, because you just can't. . .

.

Because the Tooth Fairy is not allowed to make the money. . . And I knew that they questions would follow of exactly where did the money come from. . . Is there some kind of government funding for the Tooth Fairy? A Tooth Fairy tax? Does she withdraw these quarters from the bank? . . . .

.

And it just doesn't seem enough. . . And, of course, it's not enough. He always wants to know exactly why. . . And I always feel like my explanations fall short. . . So I quickly change the subject to Legos, and I'm off the hook. . . for now. . .

He is getting a new little brother in 10 weeks. . . and he loves babies (although your daughter in the stroller looked well over one). . . He loves to come over and say, Hi baby. . . because he is curious, and social, and happy. . . not because he is the carrier or some deadly disease and wishes to spread it to you and your family.

Your assertion to Get your child away from my child made me laugh. I really didn't believe that could come out of someone's mouth. But, when you said, No seriously. There's lots of disease going around. People are really sick. Well, I didn't take it personally (and was laughing even harder inside). I realize that your reaction is the result of the media frenzy about the swine flu.

But really, ma'am. If you are that concerned about getting sick, maybe you should be wearing a mask. . . or just stay home all together. Because, unfortunately, when you go out in public, you run the chance of actually seeing other people.